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I ‘Beheld His Glory! 


















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I [Beheld J~fis Qlory! 

by “ Cornelius the Centurion ” 
Newsman of Galilee 


John Evans 

ft 



1 945 

Willett, Clark & Company 


CHICAGO 


NEW YORK 


Copyright, 1945, by 



JOHN EVANS 


Reprinted by permission of The Chicago Tribune 


This book is manufactured under war¬ 
time conditions in conformity with 
all government regulations controlling 
the use of paper and other materials. 


CQPYRIGIT 2 DEPOSIT. 

RECEIVED 

MAR 11945 

COPYRIGHT OFFICE 

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 


To Ella fames 



















































































■ ■ 




















































































Prefi 


ace 


c 

>^/ORNELIUS the Centurion appeared suddenly one 
day after a long search for someone who could write an 
eyewitness account of some of the most influential events 
ever recorded. I stumbled across him as I browsed 
through early chapters of Matthew. Acquaintance 
ripened into devotion to this lovable character. 

Matthew did not introduce him to me by name but 
I quickly felt assured that I had found, after long quest, 
the man who might write a newsman’s story of what hap¬ 
pened long ago in Bethlehem, Jerusalem and Caesarea. 
An old world was dying, a new being born. 

But who was Matthew’s Centurion, this captain of 
Herod Antipas’ police there in Capernaum? Obviously, 
despite his Roman citizenship, he was held in high esteem 
throughout Herod’s Galilean realm. Matthew made it 
clear that this Centurion had a remarkable eye for essen¬ 
tial details; he was diplomatic, or, rather, a politic man. 
Equally clear was his feeling for human matters. 

But most policemen, especially police captains, are like 
that if they are good at their jobs. A bit hard and blunt, 
perhaps, but those characteristics are often assumed to 
shield a sympathetic understanding of the human situa- 
vii 


tion. The best news reporters were trained during their 
police stints to see the human side, which is what most 
folks want to read about. 

Literary efforts? No! Such are shunned. Reflec¬ 
tive and editorial elements are out of range of men so 
trained. No poets or philosophers, they — nor poli¬ 
ticians! The story, and the story only, is the thing. 
And the test of the story is whether or not it writes itself. 
Because this is so, the story has inherent power, unham¬ 
pered by literary effort, personal opinion, or special 
pleading. 

Well, just who was Matthew’s Centurion, this almost 
forgotten Roman who may have been destined to open 
the doors of the primitive Christian church to the Gen¬ 
tiles? Luke had a Centurion, whom he named in Acts i o 
as Cornelius. Luke was quite a bit better as a reporter 
than Matthew, who was more adept at covering speeches 
than in the more expert job of observing action. A name¬ 
less person might do for Matthew, but not for Luke, who 
had a much better idea of what plain people want to read 
about when newsworthy events take place. 

I became assured, for my purposes at least, that Mat¬ 
thew’s Centurion was Luke’s Cornelius. Here, then, 
was my special correspondent. With Luke’s help I also 
found some of Cornelius’ friends — Joanna, wife of 
Chuza steward of Herod’s household, and Mary of 
Magdala. Demetrius, Lentulus, and Linus entered the 
story on their own, just as Eleazar did. Finally Luke 
brought Peter into the often overlooked drama of Acts io. 
viii 


When I offered Cornelius’ copy to the managing edi¬ 
tor it pushed from page i accounts of the greatest war 
ever fought and crowded back in the paper current items 
of history’s most complex and baffling era. Cornelius’ 
correspondence was processed in identical manner with 
any other news items to reach rims of Chicago Tribune 
copy desks. 

Many New Testament quotations are freely trans¬ 
lated from the Greek, and the liturgical passages in the 
Epilogue are from the Didache. 

I acknowledge indebtedness to my friend, Rabbi G. 
George Fox, for valuable suggestions; to James H. Cobb 
for consultant research; to Benjamin Cohen for maps; 
and to my longtime associate, John L. Astley-Cock, for 
technical assistance. 

John Evans 

Chicago 

Michaelmas 1944 


IX 









I 




I ‘Beheld His Glory! 






I 



LEAVE TIBERIAS 
FOR JERUSALEM 
ON THURSDAY 


ARRIVE AT 
EAST GATE OF 
JERUSALEM SUNDAY; 

MEET CROWD 
HAILING NAZARENE 


£Qj(lles 


I HEBRON 


PASS SABBATH 
(Saturday) IN JERICHO 


Route of Herod’s Jerusalem Trip 

Broken arrows mar\ route of Herod from Tiberias to Jerusa¬ 
lem, and captions tell of developments on Holy Wee\ trip in 
which his party met crowd strewing palms in path of lowly 
Nazarene on a donkey. 



























Bethlehem: December 25, Thirty-sixth Year of Herod the Great 


Prologue in ^Bethlehem 


caravan was rerouted at Gaza as it proceeded 
northward to accommodate my employer, Eleazar, a rich 
Judean glass merchant of Alexandria, intent on deliver¬ 
ing luxury merchandise to customers in the new Zion 
district of Jerusalem in time for a winter festival. 

But here we are, stalled in this miserable village of 
Bethlehem. Eleazar thinks the crowds which held us up 
will slacken so that we can proceed tomorrow. Seldom 
do caravans travel northward along this route. Usually 
they take the coastal plain, but despite nasty weather 
here in this mountainous country there is fascination in 
this historic land, even for a Roman. 

Ostensibly, the crowds stalling us here are en route 
to a Roman census taking, but Eleazar, with a wink, 
spoke of today’s anniversary of the country’s liberation 
a century and a half ago from the tyranny of Syrian 
Greek despotism under Antiochus Epiphanes by Judas 
the Elammerer with a handful of Judean guerrillas. 
Even my tolerant country does not like its mandated 
peoples to recall their past victories any too vividly. 

Since we left the coastal route our troubles mostly 


were this incessant drizzle, chill winds, fog. The cold 
penetrates to the marrow, but last night’s strange inci¬ 
dent, together with Eleazar’s stories about his peculiar 
people, has made up for some of the discomfort. 

Eleazar, now on what he calls his last pilgrimage to 
the city of his fathers, warned against expecting any 
hospitality from his people here in Judea, above all in 
Jerusalem. They will be distant and aloof, he said, but 
he told me of their traditions in a way which made one 
feel kindly sympathy for those who remained here in 
this desolate and unproductive land in order to conserve 
a rich cultural and religious tradition reaching back more 
than a thousand years. 

Here, off all main trade routes, and by holding firm 
against all outside influences, the garden of tradition 
blooms where nothing else will grow. Eleazar said the 
temple at Jerusalem really supports the whole of Judea. 
In addition to being a religious center it is virtually a 
bank with its own coinage, a wealthy institution that 
conquerors would like to plunder. Part of its riches is 
derived from profits in foreign exchange from pilgrims 
who are compelled to buy animals and other items for 
sacrifice only with temple coinage. 

But Eleazar explained with a shrug that our caravan 
would be as comfortable in the open as in Bethlehem’s 
leaky mud-roofed houses. He added that Jerusalem will 
hang out no welcome sign to me, a Roman on unofficial 
business. You see, he said, the sphere of influence of 
Rome is constantly widening just as Alexander’s empire 


did three centuries ago. A bitter war and incredible 
feats of heroism by Judas and his guerrillas were nec¬ 
essary to win the freedom of this tiny commonwealth. 

Now another conflict looms as the people on today’s 
festival recall the Hammerer’s exploits and look to the 
dynasty he established. Even though the Roman sen¬ 
ate set up Herod’s present throne in part to end that 
dynasty, the wily Herod married into the Hammerer’s 
line. Herod is a sort of naturalized Jew, but is really a 
descendant of the hated Edomites, and how Judea 
loathes this “ Edomite slave ” who rules over it! 

But he has kept the land peaceful and reasonably 
prosperous. Did he not keep Judea out of the hands of 
Cleopatra, and did he not quell the rebellion in Galilee 
with an iron hand? And did he not rebuild the temple 
and fortify Jerusalem against any assault? 

Yes, but did he not rebuild Samaria into a hated 
Greek city, and help build foreign temples elsewhere? 
But his wickedness and pagan spirit are now catching up 
with him. He spends more and more time each year at 
Callirrhoe hot springs and is sick most of the time. His 
jealousies are becoming maniacal. 

Recently he became suspicious of the ambitions of his 
sons, who, through their mother, are members of the 
Hammerer’s dynasty and he is not. He summarily re¬ 
called them from Rome and executed two of his own 
sons as he put their mother to death twenty-two years 
ago. Herod strikes instantly and ruthlessly when he 
thinks his power is threatened. 

3 


But with all his violent temper and cruelty, the peo¬ 
ple are worried about what will happen when he dies. 
From accounts of his sickness, that time is not far off. 
Will the country then suffer partition and resulting civil 
violence leading to further intervention by Rome? A 
large section of the people, particularly in Galilee, want 
to attack now, just as the Hammerer did. But that 
means war, and the loss of temple revenue from pil¬ 
grims. Ruination would ensue. 

Here in Bethlehem the main business is sheep rais¬ 
ing. The sheep are certified by the priests for temple 
sacrifices and economic conditions are good. What they 
want more than anything else is peace, so they tolerate 
Herod but worry about the state of his health. 

These worries were accentuated last night by a 
strange incident. Drivers heard a commotion in stables 
where our caravan animals are kept. We did not want 
to run into further trouble and delay so Eleazar and I 
went out, despite the late night chill, to see if something 
else might further stall us. 

To our amazement the sky was clear, and a brilliant 
star not known to these people seemed to shine directly 
into one of the stables. On approaching we learned that 
a young woman from Galilee had become a mother in 
the stable, where the young woman and her husband 
had been forced to go because of the crowded village. 
Eleazar explained that a new and brilliant star would be 
one of the sure signs of the birth of David’s divinely 
anointed descendant. 


4 


Then frightened shepherds began arriving in the vil¬ 
lage. They told of hearing heavenly song in the sky 
telling of peace to men of good will. While still terror- 
struck, they saw an angel who bade them be unafraid; 
that good news was breaking . . . 

“ For unto you is born this day in the city of David 
a Savior, which is the anointed of the Lord. And this 
shall be a sign unto you; ye shall find the babe wrapped 
in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.” 

Awestricken, Eleazar whispered to me that Bethle¬ 
hem is David’s city; that here the great king would be 
born. He turned back to the stable, and I, following 
him, entered. The loveliness of the scene was unfor¬ 
gettable; the light of the star on two beautiful faces, 
mother and babe, with the glow forming a crown 
around the infant’s head. The husband knelt before the 
manger in adoration. 

Before parting from Eleazar for the short remainder 
of the night, I asked him if there should be anything 
to these strange portents. His moist eye glistened in the 
star’s light. 

“ I think there is,” he said. “Iam sure of it.” 


5 


Thirty-jour years elapse between prologue and se¬ 
quence. Cornelius, stranded by Eleazars death, 
joined the imperial legions of Emperor Augustus. 
Rising from the ranks, he at last became a centurion. 
Herod the Great died in the year following the pro¬ 
logue. His kingdom was partitioned among three 
sons and a daughter, with Herod Archelaus over 
Judea, who was soon replaced by Roman procurators, 
and Herod Antipas over Galilee and Perea. As the 
sequence opens, Herod Antipas is on his way to 
Jerusalem. 


Jerusalem: Fourth Year of Pontius Pilate in Judea 


Palm Sunday 


journey up to Jerusalem for the feast of the 
Passover in the company of Herod, Rome’s puppet ruler 
of Galilee and Perea, was uneventful, except for a single 
incident late today just outside the city gate. As military 
aide to this ruler, it was my duty to clear a way through 
throngs en route to the feast, and I felt I had succeeded. 

We departed four days ago from Tiberias, Herod’s 
capital on the sea of Galilee, and proceeded southward 
through Perea, east of the Jordan river. Many hasten- 
ing groups made way for us without unpleasantness, but 
some from the Decapolis and beyond, who were not 
Herod’s subjects, grumbled wrathfully at him. 

The sun is warm and the rainy season is about over. 
Farmers are making ready for the barley harvest in low¬ 
lands. With the Passover only six days away, they must 
hasten with their harvest because they must present the 
first tenth of the crop to the temple before the feast, else 
they will find trouble and delays in marketing the bal¬ 
ance. Olive trees are in full leaf, and flower-covered hills 
are celebrating springtime almost breathlessly before the 
torrid summer sun bronzes them into barrenness. 


7 


Yesterday, the Sabbath, we rested in Jericho after 
crossing the Jordan Friday into Judea with its broken 
rockland. Passing the night in Jericho, we set out early 
this morning, the First day of the week, determined to 
complete the long climb up, up, to Jerusalem by midafter¬ 
noon. Judea’s history, which I have been trying to un¬ 
derstand for many years, has been as tumultuous as its 
mountainous contour. 

At present, Judea is ruled by Pontius Pilate, a Ro¬ 
man military governor whose title is procurator. He has 
made many mistakes during the four years of his rule, 
but despite his unpopularity with the people generally, 
he manages to keep the peace and to get along with 
those temple authorities who are his stooges. 

But Herod and Pilate are at outs, largely because 
Herod hates anything Roman and Pilate hates anything 
Judean. Herod’s attitude is not surprising because years 
ago Rome washed out of his princedom nearly all author¬ 
ity inherited from his father and reduced his power to 
that of tetrarch, which is his official designation in Rome. 
Fanned by his hatred for Pilate, Herod finds ironical 
pleasure in recounting Pilate’s mistakes. One blunder 
especially amuses him. 

To get Herod’s point, which is hard for us Romans 
to understand, it must be realized that for the Judeans 
there is only one God, and his statues and pictures are 
never to be made. But with us, we have many gods, 
with every emperor beginning with Caesar Augustus 
also a god. 


8 


On nearly every corner in Rome, and in all the cities 
of our vast empire, images of various gods receive obei¬ 
sance of their devotees. But among Judeans, this is the 
worst of sins. Unaware of this — and it should be re¬ 
membered that Rome pledged religious liberty to Judea 
— the very first official act of Pilate was to post the image 
of Emperor Tiberius, together with the sacred eagles of 
the Roman legions, in a tower a stone’s throw from the 
temple in Jerusalem. 

With ironical laughter, Herod recalled this blunder 
just as we set foot in Judea from the Jordan river which 
bounds the country on the east. 

“ The crazy Roman,” Herod roared. “ Erect an 
image of the emperor in the tower of Antonia, will he? 
Yes, but was his face red when he had to jerk it out 
again. Roman emperor and eagles backing out! Pfui! 
And the fool used temple shekels to build the new 
Jerusalem aqueduct. He made some kind of a private 
deal with High Priest Caiaphas, to do it! 

“ That’s a team for you! Pilate and Caiaphas! 
When Caiaphas’ nose itches, Pilate sneezes. Both are 
in bad with most people, and they’d better pull together, 
but I’ll bet my money on Caiaphas in the long run.” 

The elevation of Caiaphas to the high priesthood by 
a predecessor of Pilate’s a decade ago was a scandalous 
affair. Annas, father-in-law of Caiaphas, still boss of 
the temple hierarchy, was then the high priest, but be¬ 
cause he would not give in to Roman demands the mili¬ 
tary governor threw him out and named Caiaphas in his 

9 


place. Caiaphas’ appointment was unpopular from the 
start and it is probable that most Judeans still regard 
Annas as the high priest. 

Thus, if the political scene is a mess in Judea, the 
religious situation is not much better. And now comes 
the crisis — a crowded Passover season! 

Vengefully foreseeing Pilate’s troubles during the 
week, Herod had sought more and more speed through 
the lower faultlands. As higher country was reached, 
and Bethany passed, I had increasing trouble in clear¬ 
ing a way through the crowds. Finally, just below the 
ascent to the east portal of Jerusalem, known as the Gate 
of the Lily, we appeared to be stalled. 

A vast throng had surged down from the city singing 
a joyous welcome to another group which was proceed¬ 
ing toward the city. When the two met and refused to 
give way to Herod I dismounted and forced my way 
into the crowd to find the cause of the demonstration. 
This I soon learned, for all hallelujahs were for one who 
was mounted on a donkey. Palms were waved over his 
head and flowers and bright garments are strewn in his 
way. 

Hailing him as the new king, the son of David, the 
entire throng then struck up a chant beginning with the 
ancient word “ Hosannah! ” “ Save us now! 

“ Save us now! 

Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord; 

Blessed is the approaching kingdom of our father 
David. 

Save us in the heights of heaven! ” 

10 


Pressing closer, it startled me to see who was receiv¬ 
ing the regal welcome as one anointed of the Lord! It 
was that strange young man of Nazareth of whom I had 
heard much in Galilee. I saw him first in Capernaum 
where I was garrisoned until about a year ago. Al¬ 
though I never had actually met the young man, I had 
heard him speak in the new synagogue where I was al¬ 
ways welcome, Roman that I am. 

I am unable to describe the power of his personality 
other than to say that to be near him made me realize 
the unworthiness of my life. The people of Capernaum, 
and many in near-by Magdala, held him in deep rever¬ 
ence. Despite his great kindliness I could not 
myself to greet him. 

On pressing closer to the center of the crowd I was 
amazed to discover that Joanna, wife of Chuza, steward 
of Herod’s household, was in the young man’s attendant 
group. Also, that street woman of Magdala, Mary, as 
well as a number of fisherfolk I had seen with him in 
Galilee. I recall that when Demetrius, my orderly, was 
stricken, and the doctors could do no more for him, 
Joanna had asked the young man, who had great power 
over sickness, to heal him. 

When I learned that the young man was on his way 
to my house I felt that I could not induce myself to 
admit him, due to the curious spell he holds over me. I 
sent word to the young man, begging him to do what 
he could at a distance. Demetrius improved at once and 
still serves me. 

Here in the shadow of Jerusalem’s gate the young 


n 


man appeared to have aged. He accepted the crowd’s 
enthusiasm, but the verve of other days was replaced 
by what seemed to be either fatigue or serious trouble. 
He started to make his way toward me, but I could not 
withstand his glance. With a catch in my throat I 
turned aside, routed the tetrarch’s retinue around the 
young man’s throng, and reported to Herod. 

He was first to speak: 

“ A fine day we live in,” he exclaimed sarcastically, 
“ when a son of Herod the Great must turn aside for 
rabble. But Pilate will have plenty on his hands this 
week, mark my word.” 


12 


Monday 



T 

I HIS last year as military aide to Herod compensates 
for my advancing years, especially after three decades of 
garrison duty throughout the Roman world. Besides, 
I am getting a kick out of my first visit to Jerusalem 
during this great Passover season. 

The city is overrun by pilgrims from everywhere and 
money gushes over tradesmen’s counters. Were it not 
for its pilgrim trade, Jerusalem would soon have grass 
growing in its crooked, narrow streets. 

Demetrius and I are quartered in the Hasmonean pal¬ 
ace, where Herod resides when he is in Jerusalem, just a 
stone’s throw westward from the temple across a ravine. 
This old palace appears to be a monument to the dying 
hopes for a dynasty which would restore a Judean empire 
as vast as that of the ancient king, David. Herod, only 
a stepson of the Hasmonean line, holds tenaciously to his 
thin Hasmonean connections and traditions. 

The story of that dynasty is complex, but only less 
so than Herod’s relationship with it. Through Herod’s 
stepmother, the Hasmonean line runs back two hundred 
years through the greatest modern Judean family. It 
13 


was founded on the magical name of Judas the Ham¬ 
merer, who defeated Antiochus Epiphanes. That hated 
Greek had wrecked Judean religious traditions and had 
defiled the temple. No name in recent centuries is so 
revered as the Hammerer’s. 

However, the secondary line, of which Herod is a 
descendant, stems from his cunning Edomite grand¬ 
father, Herod Antipater, a petty desert chieftain who 
had guessed right as to who would win the world war 
between Julius Caesar and Pompey. Herod Antipater 
bet on Julius Caesar, for whom his tribe fought, and 
then reaped a kingly reward when Caesar won. But 
how the Judeans loathe the Herodian line with its loose 
morals and patronizing gestures toward Judean tradi¬ 
tions and institutions! 

Herod’s trip up to the Passover was regarded by him 
merely as just one of those appointments he ought to 
keep for the looks of things; a gesture! 

“ You see,” he told us with a wink, “ I want to see 
how the Roman fool, Pontius Pilate, gets by with the 
Passover crowds this year. Just let some crazy Galilean 
reformer start something again and Pilate and High 
Priest Caiaphas will have their hands full of riots. Jeru¬ 
salem’s bosses may get by this year — but wait till next 
year, or thereafter! 

As Herod said this, thoughts of the throng that wel¬ 
comed the young man of Nazareth, a Galilean, filled my 
mind. There was a puzzling difference between that 
group and the other crowds we passed on the way. The 
people who pressed about the young Galilean would not 

J 4 


step aside, even for a Hasmonean heir. I cannot get 
over the impulse I had at one moment to join them, 
especially when I espied Joanna among the young man’s 
throng. She is a wise old woman, and one who has 
always been kind to me. 

In fact, all Judeans of Galilee have been good to me. 
Often they have told me of their fierce love for the 
temple and for their ancient traditions. With them, I 
find myself distressed over stories of decadence and mis¬ 
management of the temple under Rome’s High Priest 
Caiaphas and his gang. 

It was with mixed feeling this afternoon that, with 
Demetrius, I crossed the stone bridge over the ravine 
toward the temple for the sacrifices. Missing was the 
kindly synagogue greeting as I entered the temple’s 
outer court. Before me was a raucous scene. 

Throngs seethed through the court, bargaining and 
haggling for the purchase of sacrificial animals. Scores 
of priests were making ready for the ritual slaughter of 
the creatures which previously had been certified for 
sacrifices by the hierarchy. Lambs, bullocks, and turtle¬ 
doves were confined to pens around the booths of con¬ 
cession operators. Brisk also was the sale of sacrificial 
oil, meal, wine, and incense. Prices for these sacrificial 
items soared as high as the traffic would bear; far above 
other markets in the city. 

Moreover, exchange rates for temple coinage, neces¬ 
sary for sacrificial purchases, are outrageous and no at¬ 
tention is paid to the protests against those who control 
the temple monopoly. That monopoly is protected 

*5 



Where Nazarene Created Sensation 

Map of Jerusalem, locating temple where a young Nazarene 
caused a sensation by crying that His Father s house had been 
made a “ den of thieves.” 

16 












by Roman arms, under agreements between Rome and 
the Judean national council, the political Sanhedrin. 
Scorned were the protests o£ outraged pilgrims as they 
longed for other days before Roman scalawags got con¬ 
trol of temple affairs. 

All this traffic and commotion within the temple pre¬ 
cincts was the cause of the universal dismay among the 
people over the present temple administration and its 
Rome-appointed high priest. 

A sudden outcry pierced the din. It was as though 
a hurricane had struck. Booths toppled, lambs scurried 
here and there, doves took to wing, and temple shek¬ 
els clattered on the pavement. Concession operators 
clutched for their possessions amid milling pilgrims. At 
first, struck rigid by the swift outbreak, Demetrius and I 
drew our swords, seeking cause of the uproar. 

A figure dashed across the pavement, swinging a lash 
on the backs of concessionaires, smashing booths, and 
overturning money-changing tables. As I rushed to¬ 
ward this person, a strange, tense calm fell with the same 
suddenness with which the bedlam had begun. 

Standing there, confronting the throng which had 
frozen in its tracks, face ashen in anger, lash in one hand, 
the other raised high as though he would still a storm, 
was that young man of Nazareth! 

His voice rang out in the stillness: 

“Is it not written, ‘ My house shall be a house of 
prayer for all the nations ’? But you have made it a den 
of thieves.” 


Tuesday 



While I am certain that the young man of Naz¬ 
areth faces trouble, even possible execution, yet nothing 
has happened of note since his sensational exploit yester¬ 
day in the temple. 

Despite absence of orders from Pontius Pilate, who 
is responsible for keeping the peace, I detailed Demetrius 
to the temple under instructions to keep his eyes open 
and report back. Should yesterday’s scenes have oc¬ 
curred at any other place in the empire, the military 
would be under immediate orders for summary arrests. 
But not so here! 

This is different; so much so as to present humorous 
aspects to a Roman observer. In spite of my anxiety for 
the young man’s welfare, I have caught myself chuckling 
over temple concession operators’ expert form as they 
dived for rolling shekels or skidded across the pavement 
in their dash for the fleeing lambs’ hind legs. 

Two things, however, mystify me as I reconstruct 
that scene: Why was it that I, a Roman officer of the 
law, was in some way constrained from arresting the 
young man; secondly, how did he manage to disappear 
so quickly after he had spoken? 

18 


As I puzzled over these questions, I noticed Joanna 
approaching from the temple. The sparkling little old 
lady listened to my questions, her eyes twinkling. 

“ There was nothing strange in the young man’s dis¬ 
appearance,” Joanna said, half mockingly. “ You Ro¬ 
mans often go off the deep end when you are in Judea. 
The young man merely walked out of the temple and 
proceeded to the home of friends in Bethany. Indeed, 
if you wish to arrest him, you will find him in the temple 
at this very moment.” 

I protested that the last thing I should ever want to 
do would be to arrest the Nazarene. But why, I asked 
her, should he endanger himself by re-entering the tem¬ 
ple today, knowing the wrath of temple authorities 
against him? Joanna replied that, being a Roman, I 
probably wouldn’t understand with “ my boyish mind 
and naive directness.” 

“ You Romans are just little boys grown up into big 
bodies,” Joanna said. “ But if you will listen carefully 
I will try to explain it. You of the west are young. You 
know how to fight, administer civil law, and govern a 
whole world very well; we of the east are old folk, re¬ 
flective, who see everything in the light of our mature 
religious culture. 

“You of Rome have dreamed and fought for your 
imperial city that it might become the empire it now is. 
To what end? Materialistic magnificence! But what is 
that? 

“ You appear to rule over Judea, and over Judeans 

*9 


scattered throughout your empire, and in lesser civil mat¬ 
ters you succeed very well. Only to minds of the im¬ 
mature are civil laws of first importance. But among our 
people of Judea who are old from their cradles, your 
superficial rule is unimportant. Judea and Jerusalem are 
symbols of another kind of empire which military might 
can never dominate. 

“ Within each of us is a holy commonwealth — fore¬ 
taste of the kingdom of hea'ven. It is in our marrow. 
You cannot understand it, but it is there. Drive us from 
this rockpile into Babylon, raze our temple, and the 
fortress of our sacred commonwealth becomes impreg¬ 
nable. Whensoever we may make government our only 
aim, we shall fail, but even then our ideal common¬ 
wealth will persist. While you of the west become 
senile, we rejuvenate. 

“ Pilate, with the aid of all of Caesar’s legions, 
scarcely could have arrested the young Nazarene yes¬ 
terday. His action in the temple was popular. But 
there is more to it than that. Pilate dared not trespass, 
for then both people, and the temple authorities whom 
the young man outraged, would have turned on Pilate. 
Far sooner would all Judeans, from Caiaphas to the low¬ 
liest, see the temple destroyed rather than a Caesar and 
materialistic might violate its sanctity.” 

Joanna’s explanation helped somewhat. But I was 
assured that the high priest and his schemers would re¬ 
sent the action of the young man and I was puzzled as 
to what means the high priest and his hirelings, and 


20 


the political Sanhedrin, would use to proceed against the 
Nazarene. She nodded assent when I suggested stealth, 
and urged that I should go to the temple at once to see 
if various groups were not now trying to trap him into 
criminal admissions. 

The greatest crimes against Rome are sedition and 
treason, whereas the highest capital crime among Ju¬ 
deans is blasphemy, but blasphemy has no standing in 
Roman law, under which all capital crimes are tried in 
Judea. As I crossed the bridge toward the temple I re¬ 
called the regal greeting of the throng when the young 
man approached the city on the First day of the week. 
That, I thought, could lead to a seditious admission of 
kingship, and constitute the first step toward a popular 
movement to restore in Judea the ancient kingdom of 
the great David. 

The outer court had changed. The booths and ex¬ 
change tables were there, but the concession operators 
were deprived of customers. Looking farther, I saw the 
reason; the usual throng of pilgrims was gathered around 
the young Nazarene near the east portico, listening in¬ 
tently. Pressing into the throng, I heard a questioner 
ask: 

Is it lawful to pay tribute to Caesar, or not? ” 

The question put the young man on the spot. If he 
answered yes, he would alienate the vast majority of his 
followers who hate Rome. Should he answer in the 
negative, he would be accused of sedition against Rome. 

The crowd became very quiet. What would he say? 


21 


“ Show me a penny,” the young man replied quietly. 
Holding it high for all to see, he asked: 

“ Whose is this image and superscription? ” 

“ Caesar’s,” was the instant reply from his ques¬ 
tioner. 

“ Render therefore to Caesar the things that are Cae¬ 
sar’s,” the young man said, “ and to God the things that 
are God’s.” 

The crowd seemed to melt away. Moving with a 
group toward the temple gate, I heard one remark sadly 
to his companions: 

“ He won every tilt with his accusers today, but I 
fear they will never rest until they convict him and have 
him sentenced to death.” 


22 


Maundy Thursday 


T 

1W0 disturbing incidents today cost me the sense 
of well-being which I enjoyed earlier in the week as I 
looked forward toward tomorrow night’s opening of the 
great Judean festival of liberation, the Passover. 

But today there came a summons from my former 
commanding officer, Military Tribune Rufus, of the Sec¬ 
ond battalion from Italy, to appear for active duty at 
the garrison in the tower of Antonia. Besides that, came 
new information from Joanna which made me fearful for 
the fate of the young Nazarene. 

All was relatively quiet yesterday and I had begun 
to believe that the young man’s exploit in lashing the 
temple concessionaires and their bosses as thieves would 
be overlooked by High Priest Caiaphas and that he 
might escape punishment. 

Now, I am doubtful, for Joanna’s story, which was 
told to her by John, one of the Nazarene’s twelve most 
trusted followers, is a disturbing one. John, despite his 
fidelity to the young man, appears to have some kind of 
an in with Annas. John had learned of the existence of 

23 


a cabal against the Nazarene in the inner circle of the 
political Sanhedrin. 

Joanna made it clear that the action of the Nazarene 
in overturning booths and exchange counters in the 
temple was not the only count held against him by the 
chief priests. They have been determined for a long 
time to destroy him because of his huge followings, 
which they regard as a threat to the peace of Jerusalem 
and damaging to the good standing of the temple crowd 
in the sight of Rome. 

Caiaphas was reported to have argued that if the 
death of one Galilean would assure peace in Jerusalem 
and guarantee the city’s continued protection under the 
tolerant eagles of Emperor Tiberius, then that Galilean 
ought to die. Some time ago the high priests and rulers 
of the temple tried to entrap the Nazarene in seditious 
speech. 

Once they caught him in what they called a blas¬ 
phemous utterance, making himself the anointed of the 
Lord, the Messiah. He miraculously escaped being 
lynched, and it was fortunate for the temple leaders that 
the young man was not stoned. Otherwise, they would 
have had a popular martyr on their hands with serious 
disturbances sure to follow. 

From what Joanna learned from John it seemed that 
the Sanhedrin clique had planned to await an occasion 
after the Passover to bring the Nazarene to trial. By 
that time the pilgrims would be gone and the city quiet. 
But something else has intervened, demanding immedi- 
24 


ate action. She said it appeared to be John’s belief that 
new information against the Nazarene had come from a 
hidden source. 

Furthermore, Joanna learned of desertion of one group 
of the Nazarene’s followers yesterday. These are Gali¬ 
lean firebrands who are always watched closely during 
greater festivals because of their revolutionary tenden¬ 
cies. They hate Rome fiercely and can see no reason 
why Roman rule should not be overthrown at once. The 
reason for their desertion of the Nazarene, who they had 
believed might be their anointed deliverer, was his ap¬ 
proval of paying tribute taxes to Caesar. 

While his answer to his temple questioners was cor¬ 
rect as to his views on separation of church and Roman 
state, yet this admission that taxes might lawfully be 
paid to Caesar lost him his most violently inclined sup¬ 
porters, probably one of the Twelve among them, who 
had reported secretly to Annas. They wagged their 
heads, saying, “ This man who would pay tribute to an 
idolatrous emperor is not our kind of anointed leader.” 
When these zealots, who were the most likely to start a 
riot, were thus shown to have discarded the Nazarene, 
the temple clique felt much safer in going ahead with 
its plot. 

On reporting to Rufus, I was assigned to lead a spe¬ 
cial detachment to guard the house of High Priest Caia- 
phas, clearing all neighboring streets at nightfall. Safe- 
conduct into the high priest’s house was issued to only 
one person, a certain Judas, of Kirioth, a village in Judea 

2 5 


south of Jerusalem. This man is not of Galilee, and 
my hope was raised that possibly my assignment did not 
bear on the Nazarene’s case, as I had heard only of Gali¬ 
leans in the young man’s most intimate following. 

I was told that the appearance of the man of Kirioth, 
or the Iscariot, was to be the signal for me to send a 
runner to call up heavier detachments, of both the Sec¬ 
ond battalion and the temple guard, under Rufus’ direct 
command. Night fell; hours passed. Then a single 
figure slunk up the street northward toward the house 
of Caiaphas. He was stopped and passed successively 
by the sentries of my detachment. 

On his arrival at the door of the house where I was 
stationed he whispered hoarsely, “ I am the Iscariot.” 
As a light through the open door shone on his face, he 
avoided my gaze. Hastening through the portal, he 
trembled; his swarthy face was drawn and pallid! 

I had seen that face before. The Iscariot was a mem¬ 
ber of the young man’s company when, with palms and 
flowers, hallelujahs and hosannahs, the Nazarene had 
been accorded his acclaim on the First day of the week. 

Here, thought I, is the source of the hidden informa¬ 
tion. A betrayal! 


26 


Qood Friday 


F 

I_jVENTS sometimes play cruel pranks. For exam¬ 

ple, what I had anticipated as a pleasant tourist’s holiday 
in this unique city, with its long history and strange 
daily life, has turned to tragedy. 

As my detachment now stands guard in this tower 
above the temple where priests are making ready for the 
sacrifices of Passover lambs, that young Nazarene, con¬ 
victed of treason against the person of Tiberius as em¬ 
peror, is being executed on a cross outside the city wall. 

From this tower I could glance over the Gate of 
Ephraim to that barren hill and see three crosses, one of 
which bears his body. A centurion dare not weep and 
I averted my gaze from the scene. 

Last night after the Twelve had supped their last to¬ 
gether, the infamous Iscariot had left the group to fulfill 
his agreement with Caiaphas. 

For money he had agreed to lead strong detachments 
under the command of Rufus to an unfrequented garden 
near the Jericho road, where the Nazarene would go for 

27 


meditation and where an arrest on the charges which 
the temple bosses had trumped up could be made. Few 
of the Nazarene’s admiring throng would be about at 
that late hour to make a disturbance. 

Hearings before former High Priest Annas and High 
Priest Caiaphas and an inner clique of the political San¬ 
hedrin during the remaining night hours were planned, 
to be followed by an early morning arraignment before 
Pilate, long before pilgrim throngs stirred in the streets. 

The temple gang expected a speedy conviction and 
a sentence of death, with plenty of time to carry out the 
execution before today’s sunset marked the unusual co¬ 
incidence of the Passover feast with the Sabbath. 

But a hitch caused their plans to miscarry. Although 
the chief priests at last won their case, and the Nazarene 
was turned over to the military for execution, Pilate had 
shown great hesitancy in agreeing to demands for the 
young man’s life. I, as a Roman, knew better than the 
Judeans the cause of this strange reluctance to act against 
the young man. 

Centurion Lentulus, successor to my command in 
the Second battalion, was assigned charge of the execu¬ 
tion. Lentulus, a hard-bitten veteran like myself, has 
had ample experience in such matters. 

Once our battalion crucified five hundred rebels in 
Pontus. The place looked like a forest of weird trees by 
the time the last wretch had been spiked to his cross. 

But that was during the last days of the reign of 
28 


Caesar Augustus! Since the accession of Tiberius to the 
imperial throne of Rome such mass executions have 
ceased. Under the new colonial policy a governor’s ad¬ 
ministrative capacity is brought into question when 
insurrection breaks out. 

Tiberius issued stern orders to his colonial governors 
to protect their peoples against boodling Roman officials 
who, under Augustus, were often the cause of serious 
disorders. 

The governors were to see to it that the individual 
native also has protection against improper arrest and 
trial for lesser offenses by native authorities, with a capi¬ 
tal offender to appear only before the governor or such 
tribunal as he might elect. 

Tiberius’ policy did not arise from a tender heart. Far 
from it! What he wants is taxes, and taxes are not the 
fruition of revolt and insurrection. Quite the opposite! 

Any miscarriage of justice to reach Tiberius’ ears is 
quickly investigated, and the governor, if found blame¬ 
worthy, is removed and disgraced throughout the em¬ 
pire. But the emperor’s policy is hard on dispensers of 
political patronage, and it underlies much of the political 
strife so far in Tiberius’ stormy and unhappy reign. 

Nevertheless, Pilate’s boss in Rome is a hard man 
and Pilate was on the spot this morning when the Naza- 
rene was set before him here in Pilate’s judgment hall. 
Before him was a ticklish case which bode well for riot 
or insurrection. Should such occur, the governor’s ad- 

2 9 


ministrative ability would be impeached before the stern 
emperor, with disgrace and forfeiture of knighthood. 

But if a tough-minded emperor faced him on the one 
hand, on the other were the relentless temple bosses, 
intent on doing away with the Nazarene who had ex¬ 
posed temple abuses, and whose mighty works and sim¬ 
ple, godly teaching attracted throngs of followers every¬ 
where. 

The trial dragged, with Pilate hedging and delaying, 
and the accusing priests becoming frantic. One accusa¬ 
tion after another was dismissed after the Nazarene had 
been questioned by Pilate within the judgment hall. 
The crowds of midforenoon now filled the streets. 

Would they be rallied by some supporter of the Naza¬ 
rene to drown out the shouts of “ Crucify him! Crucify 
him! ” from throats of temple concessionaires? 

The same thought must at last have occurred to Pilate. 
Riots before his judgment seat? Impossible! Again he 
brought the Nazarene from the hall to confront his 
accusers; a last chance! Again the frantic cries, “ Cru¬ 
cify him! ” A figure crept close to Pilate and shouted: 

“ If you release this fellow you are no friend of Cae¬ 
sar’s. Anyone who claims to be a king, speaks against 
the emperor.” ' 

This charge was the climax. It was treason against 
the person of the emperor. Pilate yielded. The young 
man quickly was dragged away. 

Musing, I reviewed the tumultuous scenes with the 


3 ° 


false, trumped-up charges of the morning, as I paced the 
observation ramp. I had scarcely noted a strange dark¬ 
ness which had fallen on the city, though it could be no 
later than the ninth hour, midafternoon. 

As I was about to call for the lighting of torches, the 
tower of Antonia shook beneath us. Built within re¬ 
cent years to withstand the earthquakes common to this 
region, it was, I knew, safe, but I feared for the old pal¬ 
ace of the Hasmoneans, where Herod was residing. I 
would go there at once, I thought, and dispatch my men 
to the temple to prevent a possible stampede. 

As I moved past a west window, my eyes were drawn 
toward the hill beyond Ephraim’s gate where light was 
breaking on the darkness. Three crosses still there, but 
deserted! Light advanced as I quickened my pace to¬ 
ward the old palace. Streets were filled with hurrying 
folk. The terror with which the darkness and earth¬ 
quake had stricken them was diminishing with the ad¬ 
vancing light. 

A detachment of soldiers strode wearily past me to¬ 
ward the tower, their commanding officer following. It 
was Centurion Lentulus! He appeared broken and tried 
not to heed my salute. Failing, he came toward me and 
clasped my hands in his. His lips moved as if to speak. 

Standing there, both speechless, we heard a woman 
speak. It was Joanna, dry of eye, still sprightly beyond 
her years. 

“You spoke rightly out there, Centurion Lentulus,” 

3 1 


she said, pointing to the hill beyond Ephraim’s gate. 
“ He is the Son of God! Lift weight from your hearts. 
All is not over! Increase your faith! 

Lentulus then regained his speech. Said he: 

“ I believe! He is the Son of God! ” 


3 2 


Easter 


I IE is risen! Joanna’s prediction chat “ all is not 
over ” has come true. I saw the young man of Nazareth 
with my own eyes. I heard him speak. His blessing 
was of Peace. He told us to tell the good news to the 
whole world. 

How shall I relate the facts of today, which began 
dismally enough, other than to write down faithfully 
what I saw? 

I had arisen long before the dawn this morning and 
had gone out on the high gallery in the tower of An¬ 
tonia overlooking the temple. Sleep for me has been 
elusive since the Nazarene was executed out yonder on 
the hill beyond Ephraim’s gate. Besides, another of 
Jerusalem’s earthquakes had made sleep difficult. 

Looking down from the high gallery I could discern 
priests moving about the court of the temple through 
the gray of the dawn, making ready for the morning sac¬ 
rifice of the First day of the week. 

On each of the four corners of the roof of the temple 
were three trumpeters ready to herald the sacrifice to the 
four winds of the earth. They awaited a signal from 
a priest who, high in the pinnacle opposite the tower, 

33 


gazed across Jordan above the dark hills of Moab for 
the first gleam of the sun, the moment for the sacrifice 
to begin. 

The ritual of the morning sacrifice for the whole 
people called for the lamb to be slain and offered on the 
altar. Together with the incense offering, and the con¬ 
suming of the meal and drink offerings, the liturgy of 
the First day of the week requires the singing of the 
ancient psalm of enthronement, the enthronement of the 
Lord as King of the universe: 

“ The earth is the Lord’s, and the fullness thereof . . . 

Lift up your heads, O ye gates, 

And be ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors; 

That the King of Glory may come in. . . .** 

As I contemplated the activity below, Centurion 
Lentulus approached. He, too, had spent sleepless hours 
and spoke of the earthquake. He inquired about my 
presence in Jerusalem, and as I began to recount events 
of the months of my retirement from the Second bat¬ 
talion, the trumpets sounded their fanfare below us. 

A gleam of the sun had shot across the hills of the 
plain of Moab. Priest-borne torches glowed red against 
the courts below. Soon the sound of singing arose from 
the temple. It was interspersed with the sound of sil¬ 
very trumpets, calling the assemblage to prayer. 

Aloft came the closing words of the psalm: 

“ Who is this King of Glory? Even the Lord . . 

34 


But the final words were drowned out by armed men 
running toward us in the tower gallery. Breathlessly 
they reported to Lentulus, their officer: 

“ The earthquake, sir,” their spokesman said. “ It 
tore away the stone which had been sealed into the door 
of the sepulcher. We were felled as with a blow. On 
regaining ourselves we saw the stone had been rolled 
aside. On it sat One we scarce could gaze upon for the 
brightness of his raiment and countenance. Though 
he seemed to smile at us we fled. 

“ We were confused, sir, but as we began our flight 
we passed two men, running toward the tomb. We 
heard one say, 4 He is risen.’ ” 

Lentulus dismissed the detachment and we hastened 
toward the sepulcher, set in its lovely rock garden. 
Bright flowers smiled from every crevice. Birds piped 
their most brilliant songs through the fresh spring air to 
the fast rising sun. 

There before us was an empty tomb, the round stone 
door rolled aside. The seal of the Roman empire upon 
it was smashed! 

We turned back toward the city, speechless, and 
sought Joanna. Radiant, she told her story: 

“ Very early before the dawn, Mary of Magdala, 
Mary, mother of James, and other women went to the 
sepulcher with spices which we had prepared. We 
found the stone rolled away from the tomb, and entering 
in we found not the body of the Lord. While we were 


perplexed, two men stood by us in dazzling apparel. 
We were frightened and bowed down our faces. 

“ Said they unto us: ‘ Why seek ye the living among 
the dead? He is not here. He is risen: remember how 
he told you when yet he was in Galilee, saying that the 
Son of man must be delivered up into the hands of sin¬ 
ful men, and be crucified, and rise again? ’ 

“We remembered the words, and returned from the 
tomb and told these things to the Eleven and to the rest. 
Some doubted, but Peter and John at once ran to the sep¬ 
ulcher after we had told them, and they, too, found it 
empty.” 

Joanna added that all the young man’s friends would 
meet after sundown and invited us to join them. 

After darkness had settled on the city, Joanna bade 
us go with her to a house where his followers were to 
meet behind closed doors for fear of the temple authori¬ 
ties. We gladly went. 

Many of the first doubts about the risen Lord had 
been dispelled. The Nazarene already had appeared to 
Clopas and another follower on the road to Emmaus. 
They told their story to our group. 

Then even as their narrative was given, it happened! 
The risen Nazarene appeared in the midst of our com¬ 
pany; his pierced hands raised in blessing as he spoke: 

“ Peace be unto you: As the Father hath sent me, 
even so send I you. Receive ye the Holy Spirit: whose¬ 
soever sins ye forgive, they are forgiven unto them; 
whosesoever sins ye retain, they are retained. Go ye 

3 6 


into all the world and preach the good news to the 
whole creation.’* 

I turned toward Lentulus, who had fallen to his knees. 
He murmured softly: 

“ Lord Jesus, I'll go.” 


37 


Six years elapse between sequence and epilogue. 
Cornelius now resides in Caesarea, in complete re¬ 
tirement. 


Caesarea: December 25, Tenth Year of Pontius Pilate 


Epilogue in Caesarea 


T 

10DAY brought the feast of Saturn to a close. In 
previous years, since my return to this Roman city, my 
household and I entered into the gaiety of the season. 
This year the crippling pains in my bones, which five 
years ago sent me back from Tiberias into complete re¬ 
tirement, crimped any frolicking horseplay for me. 

Thus for us the observance simmered down to a few 
candles lighted in honor of our ancient god of Latium. 
Perhaps it was fortunate that I was forced to spare myself 
because today, for the first time during my long years 
in Syria, I was host at meat to Judeans. While I always 
have been on friendliest terms with them, yet never be¬ 
fore had I been given opportunity to break bread with 
them. Ancient tradition prevents such consort between 
Judeans and persons of other ancestry. 

Beyond the entertainment of most unusual dinner 
guests, two other things took place. One was a leave- 
taking of commingled heartbreak and joy. The other 
event was similar to the reappearance of the young Naza- 
rene when he quietly entered that upper room to greet 
his followers after his execution and acclaimed resurrec- 


39 


tion. That he was truly in my house today I now have 
no doubt although my eye did not perceive him. 

The leave-taking was that of my old friend, Centurion 
Lentulus, and his orderly, Linus, as they set out for 
Antioch and Rome on orders from Vitellius, imperial 
legate of Syria with residence in Antioch. A fortnight 
ago Vitellius ordered Pilate’s summary dismissal as mili¬ 
tary governor of Samaria and Judea. His meddling in 
temple affairs, this time in Samaria, had brought about 
his downfall. 

On learning of his dismissal Pilate ordered Lentulus 
and his detachment to Caesarea from Jerusalem, where 
he had long been in command of the garrison in the tower 
of Antonia. My joy was great when Lentulus entered 
my house and for a time it seemed certain he would be 
stationed here permanently. 

But just before today’s unusual meal the order came 
from the legate sending him to Rome forthwith. It is 
doubtful, in view of the present chaos in Rome, if he will 
ever be returned to Syria. Things became so bad in our 
imperial city that Emperor Tiberius pulled out of Rome 
in disgust and now resides in self-imposed exile at Capri 
while affairs of state are in the hands of Sejanus, his chief 
minister of state. 

Even the few days I had with Lentulus meant much 
to me. Moreover, he was formally commissioned in 
my house today to carry the teachings of the Nazarene’s 
new way to Rome. But until his arrival I could scarcely 
say that I had a real religion, despite my interest in the 

4 ° 


synagogue and my observance of various Roman feasts, 
such as today’s Saturnalia or the springtime’s Baccha¬ 
nalia, when buds swell and these Syrian hills take on their 
brief cloak of green. 

One of those Bacchanalian days is unforgettable — 
that springtide sunrise after that long night in the tower 
when one of Jerusalem’s earthquakes struck and, with 
Lentulus, I hurried to the garden beyond Ephraim’s gate 
to find that tomb empty, its stone door rolled aside. 

But I had not connected that event with religion — a 
religion like that of the temple — or even with the Bac¬ 
chanalia. My tender regard for the young man who had 
risen from that tomb had not been religious; he only 
awed me. Quite different was my interest in the Gali¬ 
lean from my devotion to Bacchus! Bacchus has his 
points as the god of wine even though the crude and 
thoughtless often debauch his feast. 

Bacchus pointed to a promise of life, an immortal life, 
and appeared to make good his assurance when at his 
feast the cup is raised to lip. The ensuing glow of the 
body was the symbol of his life one might share — and 
we of Rome demand life tingling to finger tip, assuring 
union with a god and partnership in his immortality. 
The religion of Bacchus was a yearning for life. 

Today I found it! 

Lentulus and Linus now carry that new life to the im¬ 
perial city, where it will spread over the whole earth. 
But I shall never see them again. 

In order to relate today’s amazing event I must go 

4 1 


back and explain that my last days here in Caesarea have 
been lonely. There is not even a synagogue here. All 
are Romans, Greeks, and Syrians. The nearest syna¬ 
gogue on the coast is in the Judean city of Joppa, a day’s 
journey, and I am a crippled old man! 

True, my household has much knowledge of the 
Nazarene and we all, including Demetrius, revere him 
as a person of great nobility to whom we owed some 
kind of obligation. But we could not be sure what that 
obligation might be. 

Then, at last, Lentulus and Linus came. They, to¬ 
gether with the entire garrison, had entered the Naza- 
rene’s new way. But, sadly, those devoted soldiers also 
had been isolated by the nature of their duties as well as 
by their nationality. 

They were Romans, while nearly all others who fol¬ 
low in the new way are Judeans from almost everywhere 
except Jerusalem’s temple groups. Large numbers are 
from Galilee, where Rome is hated as bitterly as either 
Herod or the temple gang in Jerusalem. 

Moreover, a great number of these Judeans speak only 
the Greek language. They were educated in Greek 
schools from Alexandria to Macedonia. They now are 
tradesmen, exporters, craftsmen, lawyers — pilgrims to 
Jerusalem, full of zeal for the law and traditions of their 
fathers despite their turn to- the new way under the 
preaching of Peter and others of the Nazarene’s most in¬ 
timate followers. 

In a way they became men of two religions, clinging 

4 2 


to the ancient ways while reaching for the new life as¬ 
sured by the risen Nazarene. They were taught from 
temple porches where Romans did not feel free to go. 
Fellowship of a common table was impossible, even 
though a meal of sacred meaning was the central ob¬ 
servance. But of that meal Lentulus and his men could 
learn nothing. 

Besides, the new adherent must submit to the initia¬ 
tory rite called baptism, commanded by the Nazarene 
when last he met his followers. Romans were not ad¬ 
mitted to this rite. 

“ Can only Judeans follow in the new way? ” sadly 
asked Lentulus. “ They themselves are glad for our rev¬ 
erence of the risen Nazarene but they, too, are baffled 
when fellowship in his name arises in our minds. They 
know we adore him, too, but they are helpless. They 
truly long to let us come with them but cannot. 
They know the whole empire will sometime follow his 
way could this nationalistic barrier be lifted.” 

Lentulus told me of the spread of the word to Joppa, 
where the great synagogue is the center of the new teach¬ 
ing. Peter is there now, he said, instructing throngs. 

I pondered these things, and first thought of appeal¬ 
ing to Peter. Foolish idea! Obviously, I am too feeble 
to make the journey and then, even though Peter should 
remember me from old Capernaum days, what could 
either of us do about the matter? If ever the Romans 
are to be admitted it can only be when Judeans bid them. 

Only the Nazarene himself can bring about such a 

43 


miracle. He still lives, somewhere, and Lentulus as¬ 
sured me that the young Galilean is God. Why not pray 
to him? 

My knees scarcely reached the floor when a strange 
sensation came over me. Seemingly I heard a voice. I 
listened! 

“ Cornelius,” I heard the voice say. I looked up and 
saw a radiant messenger. 

“ What is it, sir? ” I asked. 

“ Your prayers and charities,” said he, “ are remem¬ 
bered before God. Now send men to Joppa for a man 
named Simon, who is called Peter. He is entertained by 
a tanner, also named Simon, whose house is close by 
the sea.” 

The messenger departed. I called Demetrius and 
Linus, telling them all that had happened, and dis¬ 
patched them to Joppa. Today, the third after their 
departure, they returned. Simon Peter and a number 
of Judeans were with them. They entered my house 
without hesitation, but I, overcome with joy, knelt at 
Peter’s feet. He reached down and took me by the hand. 

“ Get up! ” he said. “ I, too, am only human.” 

I then explained all — told him how I had been in¬ 
structed to send for him, and bade him speak to us all 
as he might be led. 

“ Now I really understand,” said Peter, “ that God 
shows no discrimination, welcomes the man of any race 
or nation who reveres him and does what is right. He has 

44 


sent his message to Israel’s descendants and made the 
good news of peace known to them through the risen 
Christ. He is Lord of us all.” 

As Peter retold the story of the Nazarene a strange 
glowing warmth seemed to fill me until I no longer 
could restrain my speech. I declared my belief in the 
Lord as my God and while I spoke others were also pro¬ 
claiming their faith, so much so that the Judeans in 
Peter’s company seemed amazed that this special gift of 
God had been given likewise to Romans. 

Then asked Peter: “ Shall anyone forbid water to 
baptize this people on whom the Holy Spirit has de¬ 
scended? ” 

Following our baptism, while Peter was further in¬ 
structing us in the new way, a runner from Vitellius en¬ 
tered. He bore the legate’s command that Lentulus 
should seize Pilate at once and forthwith lead him to 
Antioch for orders before proceeding to Rome. 

Evening approached and I summoned servants to pre¬ 
pare quickly a meal for the whole house. 

When all had eaten Peter arose, proclaiming a Thanks¬ 
giving assembly of believers, and promised instruction 
in the Giving of Thanks. During the devotions he 
would commission Lentulus and Linus as bearers of the 
good news to Rome and the whole world. 

He took the cup of wine in his hand and, before offer¬ 
ing it to the assembly, said: 

“ We continually give thanks to Thee, our Father, for 

45 


the sacred vine of David Thy servant which Thou hast 
caused us to know through Christ Thy Son. To Thee 
be the glory for evermore.” 

He took bread in his hands and reverently broke it 
into fragments, saying: 

“We continually give thanks to Thee, our Father, 
for the life and knowledge which Thou hast made known 
to us through Christ Thy Son. To Thee be glory for 
evermore. Just as this broken bread was scattered upon 
the mountains and has been gathered into one, so may 
Thy assembly be drawn from the corners of the earth 
into Thine own kingdom. For Thine is the glory and 
the power through Jesus Christ, forever.” 

Peter then caused Lentulus and Linus to kneel before 
the whole assembly and placed his hands on their heads, 
calling for prayers of all on them as bearers of the eternal 
life of Jesus to the whole world. He then offered thanks 
for the sacred meal: 

“ We continually give thanks to Thee, Holy Father, 
for Thy Holy Name, which Thou madest to dwell in 
our hearts, and for the knowledge and faith and death¬ 
lessness which Thou causest us to know through Christ 
Thy Son. To Thee be glory forever. 

“ Thou Ruler over all hast made everything for the 
sake of Thy name, both food and drink Thou hast given 
to men for enjoyment that they may give thanks to Thee. 
Thou hast bestowed upon us spiritual food and drink and 
eternal life through Thy Son. Above all we thank thee 
that Thou art powerful. To Thee be glory forever. 

46 


“ Remember, Lord, Thy assembly, to rescue it from 
all evil and to bring it to completion in Thy love. 
Gather from the four winds the sanctified into Thine 
own kingdom which Thou hast prepared for them. Let 
grace come and let the world pass away. Hosannah to 
the God of David.” 

As I knelt in a silence enriched by an indescribable 
Presence I felt a strong arm move about my shoulders. 
Centurion Lentulus bent over me. 

“ Farewell, faithful soldier,” said he. 


47 


































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